


Apple Pie Perfect

by Missy



Category: The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.
Genre: Canon-Typical Plot, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Brisco and Bowler spend a special, romantic afternoon...chasing down villains who have muscled a widow out of her pie shop.





	Apple Pie Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nisiedraws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nisiedraws/gifts).



The desert sun was high over their heads as they found the right path to the nearest town. “The Apple Pie Gang had better still be on the loose,” Bowler grumbled. “This ain’t hat and jacket weather.”

“I did tell you to leave both at home,” Brisco said serenely. “But they have been pretty comfortably warm at night.” He didn’t need to say why. Cuddling on the prairie had a way of feeling more comfortable under a duster.

“Are you trying to hand me a compliment?”

Brisco grinned. “Now why would I ever do that?”

Bowler snickered. “I don’t know. You were awful complimentary last night. Or do you always cry in bed when you’re coming?”

Brisco was about to reply with something witty, but then Comet nickered. “Hey, you don’t get a say in my love life,” he reminded the horse. 

“I am your love life, Brisco,” Bowler reminded him. “Besides, I know you get all hot and bothered when I do something very right.” He continued to urge his horse into a happy stride. “If we’re going to stick together, you need to tell me what that horse of yours is saying.”

But Brisco attacked the argument from a different angle. “I cried because you caused a pitched fervor of emotion and feeling in me. It couldn’t be helped. I’m a very sensitive man.”

“Yeah, and I know exactly what part is the most sensitive!” Bowler snort-laughed. “How many more miles is it to this town?”

“It’s just forty more feet over that ridge,” he said.

“There better not be a cliff at the end of this hill,” Bowler said. But he was grinning. Even blew Brisco a sarcastic kiss as they headed up and over the ridge. 

How the hell had he chosen to be with this incredibly highly skilled, impossible man? Brisco didn’t ask questions. But he did know he was incredibly lucky to be with Bowler. He urged Comet into a gallop and met him as they descended the slope and headed off to the safety of the brand new town.

****

**~~**************************************************************************~~**

High Terror wasn’t a particularly interesting town, compared to the many others they’d spent time in. There was a church, and a store, and a theater. Brisco tipped his hat at every passing person and questioned anyone who seemed particularly interested at the sight of two US Marshals wandering through their town. When he described the Apple Pie Gang to a very nice looking elderly lady, she spat on the ground.

“I seen them ‘round the old Firstein Place at the end of the lane. They took over Betsy’s pie shop! Ran that poor widow woman clear out of town! And their baking tastes just awful!”

Brisco and Bowler exchanged quick glances. “Thank you, ma’am,” Brisco said. 

“So they’re using the bakery, but for what?” Brisco asked.

“Well, they are the Apple Pie Gang. Their old MO used to be stealing money so they could buy a bakery. But that lady definitely made it sound as if the land the ended up with wound up in their possession through ill-gotten methods.”

“So either they lost all the money they swiped or they’re hording it in the kitchen. Looks like we have to pay them a visit,” said Bowler. “Maybe have a little pie?”

“Hmm. I admit I do have something of a hankering.”

“Hopefully they’re good. But before we go, we should suit up in some kinda disguise.”

Fortunately there was a tailor’s shop nearby. The outfits they were given weren’t flashy, but were passably bland enough to avoid suspicion – or so Bowler hoped.

****

**~~**************************************************************************~~**

The pie cottage at the end of the lane had seen better days; apparently the Apple Pie Gang hadn’t bothered to do much upkeep on the place. Its bright red front shutters were falling off their hinges, and the small lawn hadn’t been cut back in ages. But Brisco swaggered up and asked for one big cottage pie. The dining room was fairly well kept, and the three men serving and cooking behind the bar were a motley crew of different sorts. The burly man in the flour-stained apron didn’t seem particularly interested in their order, but it arrived promptly.

“Hmm, it looks good,” Brisco said. And it smelled good. And when they cut into the pie, it looked good. Fresh, with creamy, bubbly gravy and a crumbly crust that fell apart when they dished it up.

“Wait,” Brisco said, just before Bowler dug into his slice of pie. “What if they’re trying to poison us?”

“Why don’t we each take a bite of the other guy’s pie?”

“Bowler, you made that sound kinky.”

“Proud to!” He held his fork up to Brisco’s mouth. Brisco held his fork up to Bowler’s mouth. They bit down.

And nothing. That was enough to convince the lovers that there wasn’t anything particularly dangerous about the pies. And, criminal or no criminal, they were both starving. They dug eagerly into the crust and started to spoon the food into their mouths.

“This isn’t half bad!” said Bowler. “Kinda sweet and juicy!” And then an alarming crunch sounded from his mouth. And another from Brisco’s.

As subtly as possible, they both dug into the pies and started scooping coins out. Between the two of them, they found forty coins hiding between the layers of crust and filling.

“They’re baking money into the pies,” Brisco said.

Bowler glowered, picking coins out of the filling and staring at the man behind the counter. “No, I’m guessing it was a mistake – but proof that they still have the money.” He grabbed his gun. “Wanna make quick work of this?”

“Sounds like heaven to me.”

****

**~~**************************************************************************~~**

Somehow, they managed to wrangle all three men to the ground. Bowler got the sheriff as Brisco held them together.

“Damn it, Boyd, you idjit,” said the man Brisco recognized from his flier as Luc Apple. “Why the hell did you tip off the police?”

“I just got so sick of pies,” Boyd Apple moaned. “I didn’t know there would be so many pies!”

“You’re sick of pies, huh?” asked Luc. “Well, I’ll give you a nice change from ‘em! How about a knuckle sandwich!”

“Now boys,” said Brisco. “No fighting.”

Bowler arrived with the sheriff, and all three brothers were carried off into custody. Brisco and Bowler wired Socrates with proof of their capture so they could eventually get paid for their bounties. Apparently someone had already found the kindly widow the wicked Apples had rousted from her perch, and she was back and making pies while the town got to work fixing the stand up.

“Well, another crime solved,” Brisco said, as he and Bowler walked their horses to the city’s limits. There was a grumbling sound from Comet. “Oh come on, you did not help! You were tied up at the post the whole time!

“Am I ever gonna be able to understand what the hell he’s saying?” Bowler asked.

“If you stick with me,” Brisco said. “You will.” He reached out for and kissed the back of Bowler’s hand. “Happy anniversary, by the way.”

They kissed just once more –this time on the lips - before mounting up and riding off side-by-side, their next quarry waiting for them.


End file.
